Discovering Batman Finding Bruce Wayne
by Clara Bells
Summary: Written as a full length novel. Clara's from Miami. She's hot, she's successful, and she's toting around Ranger's daughter. Things are heating up for this amateur bounty hunter as she collides with Ranger in her attempt to pull in Vinnie's biggest FTA ye
1. Chapter 1

**Discovering Batman -- Finding Bruce Wayne**

_DISCLAIMER- I do not own the Janet Evanovich Characters._

Chapter One

My name is Clara Bells. I know. My parents are cruel, right? I'm in my mid twenties (okay, late twenties) and never had the chance to live the life I wanted. I went to an ivy league school, studied my ass off and majored in sociology and criminal psychology. I got my masters degree in child welfare services and am a certified social worker and now I work out of Miami for the Department of Child Welfare and Social Services. If that didn't fill my day, as a hobby I also got my CPA. What can I say? I like kids and numbers.

As a kid I dreamed of finding Mr. Right, being swept off my feet and having a boat load of kids. Now, not only do I make a ridiculous sum of money, but I live in a well to do pristine apartment with a fancy sports car and a plant. No Family. No House. No Dog. My cases usually take up so much of my time that I find it hard to commit to much of a social life.

I was handed a case by the court judges a month back on a twelve year old girl who'd lost her mother and stepfather in a car accident. Her mother's side of the family were all dead and her step-father's family wanted nothing to do with her. They said the poor girl was trouble and to hand her off to her father. He lived in New Jersey, Trenton to be specific. Or at least he was the last time they'd heard from him. I had to pile through years of the girl's medical charts, school reports, and pubic records to finally locate his Jersey address. He had a Miami address, too -- however it appears that he never got around to actually building himself a house since the address led me to a vacant lot. Julie was no help. She didn't want to live with her father. The poor girl was still in shock over her drastic and sudden life change and the only information I managed to extract from her is that she hadn't seen or heard from her father in over a year. This was for her own protection. Yeah Right, I snorted. Sounds like a dead beat dad to me.

But despite the lack of physical evidence that Julie's father existed, I was assigned the task of insuring that Julie was reunited with her father by the Miami courts. Her mother even mentioned in her diaries and wills that if something should happen to her, that her ex-husband would care for Julie. Hence I was given temporary guardianship of Julie until her father could be located.

So here I am sitting in coach on this over-crowded airline. I absolutely hate flying and absolutely insisted that Julie trade me seats for the window.

"If you hate flying so much, why do you want the window?" she sassed..

"Because, Julie-" teenagers. "If the plane crashes I want to know when we're going to hit."

Julianna Carlita Manoso. All but twelve years old and already she knows everything. I've spent three days with this child and she's undermined and sassed me every chance she can get. I try to be kind to her, reminding myself of circumstances present but she just doesn't let up. She is so hard to read. She can freeze her face into stone and you don't know if she's happy, sad, angry, or perplexed. You can read my emotions like a book. I sometimes can catch the twitch of a smile on the corners of her lips, but other than that -- yeesh!

Julie was only twelve, but astonishingly beautiful. She kept her dark brown hair long and it curled naturally in ringlets. Her skin was a perfect olive tone and her bright big eyes were amber in color. She spoke fluent Spanish, although neither her mother or step-father ever used any first hand. I'd seen photos of her mother throughout her file. She was a beautiful woman but not stunning like Julie. Her heritage had to come from her father, because Rachel was Caucasian with strait, brown hair and green eyes. Most of our researchers are pretty thorough when it comes to the background of a new case. In Julie's case, I was taking her to live with a man that barely existed on paper.

I had to go back thirteen years to find information on Carlos Manoso with his enlistment into the Army. Another two before that to find out his first name wasn't Carlos, but Ricardo on his high school diploma. My private investigator came back and said he was now thirty-three, owned and managed a security company called RangeMan in Trenton with various satellite offices strewn about the East Coast. He gave me contact numbers for RangeMan and suggested I use that as my lead because it was the only thing I had. Other than that, Carlos Manoso didn't exist. Taking his advise, I contacted RangeMan offices in Miami requesting to talk to Carlos Manoso.

"Ma'am, there's no one that works here by that name."

"What?" I laughed. "Who signs your paycheck?"

"The bank of course," she stated simply. "Our salaries are directly wired to our accounts."

I sighed exasperatedly. "I work for the Department of Child Welfare. My information states that RangeMan is a Security Company…"

"Yes Ma'am we are." she interrupted.

Silence.

"Good." I filled in. "RangeMan is managed by a Carlos Manoso."

"There is no one here by that name, Ma'am."

"You've said that. I'm telling you what public record reads for the State of Florida. Carlos Manoso is listed as owner and management."

"You want to speak to the manager? We don't really have titles like that here. We're a team at RangeMan."

I was so frustrated. I pictured a young beach blonde filing her nails behind the phone.

"Do you have a boss?" I asked her.

"Oh, yes ma'am. I do."

"Who is your boss' boss?"

"Oh there's only one boss at RangeMan."

"Can I speak to him?"

"Oh Sure." she said. "He doesn't have an office here but he checks his voicemails."

"He doesn't work in the office?" Now I was just pushing her for more information.

"No ma'am. He works out of our main office in New Jersey. He rarely comes to Miami. In fact, its our goal for him to not ever have to come. Him coming usually means there's a problem. And you don't want to be near the boss when there's a problem."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"He can get pretty scary."

"I see." I said. "Well, please take a message for your boss that I need to get in touch with Carlos Manoso in regards to his daughter."

"Um… " Now she sounded confused. "The boss' name is Ranger. And he doesn't have a daughter."

"His name is Ranger? First or last?"

"I'm not sure." she said. "No one knows that much about him."

The lowering of the landing gear jolted me back into the present. The most terrifying part of flying is that last second before you touch ground. Its just one more opportunity for karma to slap you in the face. When we finally stopped, I'd realized that I was gripping Julie's arm.

"Its okay," I told her. "We've landed." I patted her arm where the white spots of where my fingers had grasped still showed.

"Duh," she snapped. She stood up and yanked her bag out of the overhead and rushed onto the tarmac. I took a minute to gather my breath before I followed after her.

Julie sulked throughout the entire airport ordeal. When we boarded she whined all through baggage check. She sassed the homeland security officer for making her take off her slides and walk barefoot on the cold, concrete floor. She fidgeted the whole time we were on the plane, and now in the airport she exploded on the way to baggage claim.

"I HATE TRENTON!" she screamed. I think the whole airport stopped to stare at us.

She ran up to the rotating conveyer belt and began throwing her luggage off it into the aisles. Bag after Bag. I sure hope her father can cover the cost of flying her bags up, they were numerous.

"Julie, please." I begged. "Try to keep an open mind. I'm sure there is as much to do in New Jersey as in Miami."

"There's NOTHING in this town!" she screamed. Again, more stares.

"You're father's in this town," I reminded her. "And he's your family now." The crowd around us started to thin and disperse.

Julie stared at me with one of her expressionless faces, and I thought I saw the twitch of a smirk in the corner of her mouth. She paused a long moment, sizing up the conversation.

"Yeah, well" she said. "You'll see."

Perplexed by her comment, I flagged down an airport taxi to take us to her father. I gave the driver the address, we loaded our luggage and set out into the night.

I can see why Julie was having difficulty adjusting to her new town. Miami was glorious, lots of people and beaches. She lived a well to do life just as I had in Miami. And not to mention the endless sun! It was October. And while Miami was still warm the night air in Trenton was a dreary, moonless, and chilly.

We weaved through the streets of town, passing dilapidated buildings, old houses, unkempt businesses. Trenton was more of an industrial town. Most of the residents probably never left. With so little to offer, Trenton couldn't prepare today's youth for the struggles of adulthood. You either got a scholarship and left or married and stayed. Most either lived the simple life working hard to earn their money or they hardly worked, succumbing to a life of crime. In fact, I heard one of the more successful businesses in Trenton were the bail bondsmen.

Julie was silent the entire ride over. She stared out her window, still wearing her emotionless expression. I flipped through her file quietly beside her, preparing myself for the task at hand. Had her father even the slightest clue that his ex-wife and her husband were dead? Would I have to tell him that, too? Relive that nightmare for Julie in front of him?

Twenty minutes later I felt the car pull to a stop.

"Miss?" The driver asked. "What was that address again?"

Again I gave it to him.

"I think there is a mistake. This is it."

What did he say? A mistake? "This is it? We're here?" I asked.

Julie bounded out of the car and stood by the roadside. I got out and walked beside her, staring in disbelief. "You're sure this is it?" I asked again.

"Yes, Ma'am." was his reply.

At first my ears didn't register the sound. But surely enough, I looked over to see Julie laughing uproariously, holding her stomach and doubled over as if in pain, she laughed and she laughed and she laughed. Composing her self, she stood and gave me a 200 watt smile. "I told you there was nothing here for me." she said. And with that, she began laughing again, as I turned my face to stare in astonishment at what my labors of research beheld me --

I screamed in frustration at the sight of a vacant lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Discovering Batman -- Finding Bruce Wayne**

_DISCLAIMER- I do not own the Janet Evanovich Characters._

Chapter Two

"Thanks again," I said to the cabbie, tossing him a very generous tip. Julie and I lugged our bags inside a small, roadside motel room. It was nearly ten o'clock as we claimed our beds in the dimly lit room. An old, battered television set sat atop a weathered wooden dresser. A small bathroom was at the back of the room complete with a rusty shower and a toilet seat that looked as if it carried a venereal disease. I washed up as best as I could and changed for bed.

I walked out of the bathroom to see Julie already in bed. Her bags were torn apart, clothes and belongings scattered across the room. It looked like she went through every bag she owned to find a pair of pajamas. And then looking closer I noticed she hadn't changed at all. She was in her bed still wearing the clothes she traveled in yet she still managed to destroy the room in ten minutes.

"You aren't changing for bed?" I asked her, motioning to the plethora of wardrobe that littered every inch of our motel room.

"I wasn't looking for clothes." she said.

Silence.

Julie was a girl of very little conversation.

"Would you mind explaining to me what you were looking for?" Not that you could find anything. It looked like whomever packed her things just threw her whole life into a dozen large suitcases.

Silence.

I walked among her bags, picking up clothes and trinkets and began putting her things away. If she noticed she made no indication. She was focused on a notebook scribbling furiously with an oversized pencil. Julie's beauty made her appear much older than what she was, but seeing her hold that fat, childish pencil made her look twelve years old again.

I selected a tasteful outfit of jeans and a sweater for Julie to wear the next day, so as not to have to once again repack her bags after the tornado of indecisiveness awoke in the morning. I placed her clothes, along with clean socks and underwear, with her tennis shoes on our sad, small communal night table. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling reeling the evening's outcome over and over in my mind. How do I find a man who doesn't want to be found?

Julie set her notebook and pencil down beside her on the bed. She too laid back and stared at the ceiling. I thought I caught the glimpse of a tear, but if it was there Julie willed it away. She was so strong, bottling her emotions. For the past three- no, now four - days I hadn't seen her that emotional, and considering all that she's lost, it would be enough to make any young girl frantically upset. I was expecting late nights talking - conversations full of reassuring and condolences. But Julie didn't talk at all. Any emotion that she let leak from her was quickly composed and held back. The most of our conversing was spent quarreling. Me trying to get more information about what family she had left and her basically telling me to shove it.

I sighed and switched off the lamp. A few hours went by and I couldn't sleep. I could hear Julie tossing next to me. I switched on the lamp and sat up in bed.

"Julie, what do you know about your father that you're not telling me?"

She lay there on her side facing away from me, perfectly still -- she was monitoring her breathing taking slow deep breaths to give the impression of sleep. Frustrated I turned off the light and lay back down.

"Its like trying to find out who Batman is," I murmured.

This caught Julie's attention. I heard her roll on her back facing the ceiling.

"You can't find him." she said. She spoke her words with disappointment.

"He's not the wind, we'll find your father," I reassured her soothingly, putting all 200K of my education to good use.

"You don't know my father," she whispered. "If he doesn't want you to find him, he disappears."

Something clicked. Julie thought her father didn't want to be found. Julie is assuming her father doesn't want to be found because he doesn't want her.

"Julie, your father loves you," I stated.

"Then where is he? Where was he when mom died?" she asked. Her voice was barely audible.

I didn't know what to say to her. So it was my turn to fill the void with silence.

After what seemed like an eternity, I rolled over and looked to Julie. "Listen to me, Julianna," I told her. "I will find your father."

We both lay there all night, counting the minutes until the sun rose over the horizon, bringing with it the promise of a new day.

After getting ready for the day (much to the disgust of both of us) we decided to have breakfast at a small coffee shop downtown. We grabbed a small table and sat to our meals eating quietly amongst the hum of shop patrons and businessmen streaming in and out.

I finished my cinnamon roll and took a long draw of my French vanilla Latte. I watched Julie quizzically as she wolfed down her cinnamon roll and gulped her hot chocolate. When she was finished she grabbed her notebook and began to again write furiously.

I let her alone to her thoughts as I reached for my Asus Laptop. It was a handy little gadget, a nine inch laptop that was so thin I could slip it in an large purse. The battery life was over five hours and instead of a hard drive the laptop used a flash drive -- very handy if I ever had to remove any confidential information. Of course, in my mundane life as a social worker, I rarely flirted with the mysterious. I don't think I've ever changed the card.

I poured through everything I had learned about Carlos Manoso. Full name Ricardo Carlos Manoso, he was born in Miami. He graduated in the top of his class, but was a juvenile delinquent and ended up enlisting in the Army to avoid a life of crime. The Army had no other information on him. I had to read through years of Rachel's journals to find out that Manoso had leave from the Army and got her pregnant. He married her to give Julie his name and divorced her almost to the day she was born. He's mentioned only a few times, the last being when she received a very large sum of money from her ex-husband's security company, RangeMan, when Julie was eight.

Even RangeMan felt a little shady to me. My research there produced evidence that they provided body guards for celebrities and security for events and businesses, but there was just an awful lot of cash flowing in and out of RangeMan. I had the state order an audit on all of RangeMan's business accounts, and they all checked out clean- in fact once I reviewed the statements the only discrepancy I found was where someone entered an actual person under the entertainment budget. She ended up being listed on the payroll so I didn't explore it any farther.

Although their relationship is estranged, I know Julie knows more about her father than she is telling me. She expected us not to find him last night. And it prickled my skin to remember how she reveled in our discovery. It brought me back to the question I asked myself last night.

"How do you find someone who doesn't want to be found?" I sighed.

Julie looked up from her writing. I could tell she was thinking about my question, although she didn't answer me.

I started to run search after search on RangeMan. It was the only lead I had. The results produced nothing new. I dialed the number for the Trenton Office.

It rang only once. "RangeMan, Control Room."

"Hi. Does a Carlos Manoso work there?"

There was a quick intake of breath and a moment of silence.

"Hello?"

"There's no one here by that name." said a gruff, male voice. And he hung up.

I threw my cell phone on the table and let my face fall into my hands. I let out a frustrated scream.

Julie giggled from across the table.

"What?" I said, clearly annoyed.

She quickly regained her composure and put her serious, no emotion face back on. "Nothing." she said to me. But I could still see the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. "If you want to find my father," she mumbled as she went back to her writing, "you'll have to think like him."

Her father was becoming more a mystery with each clue. I came to only one conclusion for the aloofness of her father. "Julie, what type of work does your father really do?"

She stared strait into my eyes, reeling in her head the choices she had on whether or not to help me.

"Daddy's a bounty hunter," she said. After a very long pause she added, "He finds very dangerous criminals."

Huh. That was a new place to start. A bounty hunter. "Like people who skip bail?" I asked her.

"Sometimes," she answered. "Not usually."

Okay. So her father was making money finding criminals. He probably flirted the line of legalities so I can see how he would want to protect her with distance, but the measures he was taking were a little extreme, right? I mean, what kind of criminals are we talking about here? Should I hold up a liquor store and skip bail so he'll find me? Or is he more high profile. I guess I'd have to shoot the clerk for a higher bond. Hmm… somewhere he wouldn't mind. Maybe his foot…

I was typing away, researching high profile bonds in the area and didn't notice Julie had moved to peer at my screen.

"You're not going to commit a crime to find my father, are you?" She asked incredulously.

"No! Of course not," Damn did she have ESP or what? "I'm… I'm going to track down some of these higher profile bonds and hope I run into him." YES! That was a better idea.

This won a second 200 watt smile from Julie. "Wow, you mean it?" she exclaimed.

"Yes," I said, taken aback. Who knew danger is what Julie liked. I wonder if the mysteriousness runs in the genes…

"Do we get to carry a weapon?" Julie asked. What did she mean, 'We.'

"No wait! Not you! I'll find a trail on this guy, hoping your dad does too. It would be too dangerous for you."

"Aw, come on. It wont be that dangerous. We're just looking for information, right?" She peered over my screen and selected a mug shot. "Daddy would go for this guy."

I was looking into the face of a middle aged, bald man holding up his numbers in an orange jumpsuit that nearly matched his goatee. His eyes were dark and cold. Staring at him sent shivers up my spine. Joey Viola. Under the picture read, File Photo. Great, this guy was a repeat offender. His bond was for two million dollars. He had ties to the mob.

I swallowed hard. Looking for this guy was going to be dangerous. "How about someone else?" I asked, scrolling through different names of those in violation of their bond agreements.

"All of the other bonds are less than ten thousand. We only collect a ten percent finder's fee. These aren't enough to interest my Dad."

"He likes the high rollers, huh?" Wow. This was getting scarier by the minute. Viola was wanted for killing his wife and his brother. Apparently his brother was doing his wife. He killed his brother first. Shot him in the back after catching them in the act. The bullet went through his chest and into hers, killing her, too. Viola was upset that he missed his chance to kill his wife so he pulled his brother off of her and shot her in the head, as well. His bond was issued by Vincent Plum. His office wasn't too far from the coffee shop.

"You'll have to go over there and get his file," Julie said matter-of-factly. I was really beginning to wonder if I was talking aloud and not realizing it.

"Don't you have to be licensed to be a bounty hunter?"

"No. Just to carry concealed. Ask them for the job in skip tracing." How did she know all this stuff? Wait… is she talking about guns?

"I don't think its that simple." Is it?

What other options did I have? I was Julie's guardian until I located her father. And if I failed she would end up where many children do, passed around through the state legal system from home to home never really belonging anywhere. Her trust in people would be shattered. She'd feel alone and abandoned. I couldn't be responsible for that.

Julie was packing her bag excitedly and tossing her empties away and came back to grab my plate and half finished latte. I copied down Viola's information and slipped my laptop back into my purse. Julie bounced over holding a corner scrap from her notebook, on it was written the address to Vincent Pum Bail Bonds. I sighed in defeat and took the paper from her.

"We're just going to look into it," I assured her. "Maybe the staff knows your father if he gets some of his work there."

"Whatever." She turned around and bounced out of the coffee shop, curls and all.

It took us only a few minutes to find the bail bonds office. It was worn down, like the rest of Trenton. I parked our rental on the street and told Julie to stay in the car. She just shrugged her shoulders, pulled her notebook out of her bag and began scribbling.

Inside were three small rooms, one an office I assumed for Vincent Plum, a filing room, and the front desk that had an old, worn chair in front of it for clients. No one was at the front desk and the office door was shut. I peered around into the file room and found a large, black woman with bright red hair and clothes two sizes too small flipping through a stack of papers. I politely knocked to get her attention.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't help you. Connie went down to the courthouse so if you're here to bond out your boyfriend the bastard's just gonna have to sit in jail a little while longer." Boy. She had more sass than Julie.

"Um.. No. I'm actually looking for someone," I said. "He's a bounty hunter. I think he might do some skip tracing here."

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "Who're you lookin' for? I know just about everyone."

"Great," I replied. "I'm looking for Carlos Manoso."

"Huhn… I said I know just about everyone, not everyone. I don't know him."

"He gets clients from you," I tried.

"Clients? Skips you mean? Now Carlos sounds like a sexy name but the only sexy guy we got working for us is named Ranger. "

"Ranger?" I exclaimed.

"Uh-huh, you got it sug. He is fine to look at."

"The same Ranger who works for RangeMan?"

"Uh-huh, that's the one. What you need with him?"

"I have his daughter…" I began, under the slight possibility that Ranger and Carlos were the same person.

"Ranger doesn't have any kids." she interrupted. "What's this Carlos look like? Maybe he's one of Ranger's men?"

"Um… I don't know." I admitted.

"Looks like you're out of luck."

Damn it, I thought. There goes plan A. Plan B.

"Who do I ask about a job?"

The file clerk looked me over and snorted. "You're in the wrong place for a job, ain't you? Look at you. You're high class high maintenance material. We scrape scum off the sidewalks, here honey."

"Bounty Hunting is a passion of mine." I stammered. I handed her the information on the bond I wanted. "I'm gong to track this guy down." I could feel my emotions creeping on to my face.

"Uh-huh. In that pencil skirt?"

I looked down at my three piece professionally tailored pencil suit. It was a light grey and I wore a soft, satin blouse underneath my blazer. I had skipped the hose and chose to bare my legs and selected a pair of business appropriate pumps to match. I had pulled my auburn hair back into a clip and brushed on a tasteful amount of cosmetics. I looked ready for a courtroom trial, apparently not the look for a job interview here in Trenton, New Jersey.

Just then the office door opened and a small, weasel looking man poked his head out in my direction. "Who wants a job?" I assumed this was Plum.

"Vinnie, look at this girl. She can't run in those pumps. You gotta run to catch some of these mother fuckers."

I saw Vinnie undress me with his eyes. He looked me up and down, taking in my whole physic. He stopped at the bottom of my skirt, which came down to just below my knee. "You'll need to shorten that skirt," he leered and closed the door. I had a sudden urge to vomit.

"Huhn… guess you got a job." She walked over to the front desk and started going through some files. She handed me three folders of some small bond cases. "You can start with these, I guess. Like I said, Connie does this stuff and she's at the courthouse. I'm Lula by the way."

I looked at the names; Barbara Liolli, Sam Westbrook, Brady Sidetrip. "I want Viola." I told her.

"He's high profile. He goes to Ranger."

"Well, then where can I find Ranger?"

At that, Lula let out a cackle, shaking her cleavage up and down to the point they almost popped out of her zebra print top. "Shee-it!" she said. "No one can ever find Ranger. He's like Batman. He's hot and sexy and shows up just when you need him. And quicker than he shows up, he's gone, POOF!."

"Batman?" I asked. "Batman doesn't have a bat cave?"

"If he does, I've never seen it."

"Well, thank you." I said.

"Wait," Lula called. "Don't you want his number?"

"Who's number?"

"Batman's." She took a pen and wrote a cell number on the edge of one of my files. "I stole this number out of Connie's history. You know, just in case this damsel is ever in need of distress." Ugh. I shuddered.

I was about to leave when the door opened and two people walked in.

"Oh, yeah." said Lula. "This here's Connie and this is Stephanie Plum. She's a bounty hunter, too. I also do bounty hunting, but only part time on account of I'm a big woman and I can't be running all the time in these heels. It's bad for my knees."

"Hello," I said. "Stephanie Plum? Like Vincent Plum?"

"We're not related," she barked.

"Cousins." chimed in Lula.

"I see," I said, shaking her hand. "I'm Clara. I'm going to work a few, um.." Damn it what's the word? "… skips.." that's the word! "…for Vinnie."

"Vinnie, you hired another bounty hunter?" Connie hollered through the closed office door.

"Yeah," Vinnie hollered back.

Connie reached into her desk and handed me a pile of forms and tax documents. "Fill out these. You'll need a New Jersey address to claim bounties in the state." She paused, then added "I only say that because you don't look like you're from Jersey. Do you have a permit for a gun?"

"I need a gun?" I exclaimed. Connie began handing me various items; mace, handcuffs, night stick, a taser.

"You'll need better shoes," Stephanie said.

"Yes, you'll need a gun," Connie answered. "With bullets." She looked at Stephanie who was obviously avoiding Connie's gaze.

"She wants Viola," Lula said.

"Give her Viola," Connie answered. "Ranger's in the wind. Steph you can work with her if you like. Its a high bond so you two can split it."

"Fine with me. I'll need another person for the take down anyway. This guy looks rough."

"What do I need a gun for?" Wasn't anyone listening to me?

"Hun," Lula handed me a copy of Viola's file. "Whether you're looking for Viola or Ranger, you're gonna need the gun."


	3. Chapter 3

**Discovering Batman -- Finding Bruce Wayne**

_DISCLAIMER- I do not own the Janet Evanovich Characters._

Chapter Three

"This is so great!" Julie was chattering non-stop since I told her Vinnie gave me the file on Viola. It was the most I'd heard her talk since I began working on her case a month ago. She was even more thrilled with the massive array of weapons and "take down" equipment that I was provided. It made me extremely nervous to see a twelve year old holding a taser.

"Put that down!" I ordered.

"No Way! These are the tasers that cops use!" Julie exclaimed. "This is the Advanced M26 series. The cartridge is replaceable, it'll shoot up to 35 feet and you can also use it at close range like a stun gun!" She aimed the taser at the wall and pretended to shoot.

"Give me that!" I jumped from the bed where I was sitting and grabbed the taser out of her hand. "How do you know so much about this stuff, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I like it, I guess."

"You didn't play with Barbies?" I began placing all of my new items into my purse. It was becoming quite bulky. I took the night stick out and laid it on the bed. Maybe I should get a utility belt?

"I had lots of Barbies," she said. "Did they give you a gun?"

"No," I sighed. "But I don't think I'm going to need one."

Julie was wearing her emotionless face again, staring at me while I went over Viola's file. She went to the other end of the room and began throwing her suitcases around. I was engrossed reading about Viola's family when I heard her set an aluminum case on the bedside table beside me.

"You're going to need a gun," she said. I looked over to see her turning the dials on a number lock.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

She popped open the case and pulled out a .40 caliber Smith and Wesson pistol. I heard the magazine pop into place as she loaded the gun and held it out to me. "You can use my gun," she told me.

"Julie, what the hell? How did you get that on the plane?" I yelled. Did a twelve year old just pull out a gun from her suitcase?

"I checked it," she said thrusting the gun towards me. "Don't worry, the safety's on."

I didn't want to take the gun from her, but I also didn't want to see her hold it any longer. I grabbed the gun, checked the safety and threw it in my bag. I was dumbstruck.

"Where did you get this gun?"

"My Dad gave it to me." she said. "It came for my tenth birthday."

What was the matter with this family? "Your mother allowed you to have a gun on your tenth birthday?"

"Mom was real upset. She was terrified of me having a gun."

"Well why didn't your mother send it back?" Or take it away, I thought to myself.

"She was more terrified of my Dad if she sent it back." Julie laughed. I was speechless. Do I want to find this man?

"Don't you need permits to carry a gun?" I asked.

Julie shrugged. "I guess so."

"Do you have one?"

She cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure." She rummaged through the aluminum casing and pulled out an envelope that had her name on it. She opened the envelope and a small stack of documents fell out on the bed. She looked at each one until she found her gun permit.

"Yeah, I have one." she said.

I was skeptical. "Let me see."

Sure enough, Julie Manoso did have a permit for her Smith and Wesson. She also had a license to carry concealed. In fact, she had a passport, social security card, a photo I.D. making her eighteen years old and a birth certificate to match. Among her falsified papers was a handwritten note. It read "Just in Case."

I held the note up to her. "Your father?" She nodded. I slid the note into my bag and Julie gathered her papers together and placed the envelope back in the case.

I went to the bathroom to grab an aspirin from my toiletries bag. Maybe if I started drinking, the courts would take me off this case and I could go back to my classy, mundane life in Miami.

Julie came to the door as I splashed water on my face. "When do you start?"

"I'm meeting Stephanie Plum at the bonds office in an hour. I guess I should get ready."

"Can I come?"

"No. You just stay here. Keep the doors locked and the shades drawn." I was sounding more and more like a parent each day.

Julie flopped down on the bed and sighed. "Whatever." She began flipping through TV channels, not really selecting anything. "Take the gun," she added.

"I don't need the gun."

"If you're looking for my dad you will."

--

Later that afternoon, I walked into the bonds office to give Connie my paperwork.

"You're all set," she said. "Did you get a gun?"

I glanced sideways at my bag. "Yeah," I muttered. "I've got a gun."

"What kind? I need to note it in your file."

I pulled the gun out of my bag. "Forty caliber Smith and Wesson," I told her.

"Nice," she marveled. "One shot stop. Lethal."

"I'm sorry, one stop what?"

"One Shot Stop. This caliber is designed to take down your assailant with one bullet. The FBI conducts a study every three years. This gun's been proven to be 98 lethal." Of course it is, I thought. What other kind of gun does a father buy his daughter?

Stephanie Plum walked in followed by Lula, both holding over stuffed tasty pastry bags. I saw Plum shove the last bit of a canoli in her mouth and grab a file off Connie's desk. "Who we got?" she muffled.

"Sam Westbrook," Connie answered. "He's harmless. Got busted carrying concealed. He has a few priors so he'll probably get time."

Priors? Guns? Harmless? Can they all be used in the same sentence?

"I thought I told you to get new shoes?" Plum was eyeing my sling backs. I had a hard time deciding what to wear for my first day skip tracing. Julie and I laid everything out on my bed and decided that I owned absolutely nothing. She suggested I dress casual. I chose a powder blue silk blouse with a pair of white slacks and my sling back pumps. I let my hair fall natural and opted for pearls instead of gold jewelry. I looked ready for an afternoon relaxing with the elite socialites of Trenton's Best Country Club.

"These are comfortable." A girl knows her shoes.

"Can you run?"

"Sure," I shrugged. And I could. Just not in these shoes.

"Great. Lets go." Plum showed me to her car, a beat up Chevy Corsica. The paint was peeling in all places and the car screamed for death when she drove it.

She parked the car in the lot of a two story, run down apartment building. We made our way up the flight of stairs to Westbrook's corner apartment and knocked on the door.

"We'll book this guy and then I've got to head out. I'm running distraction tonight at a gala for RangeMan. Some big C.E.O. needs a transmitter plugged on him."

"You work for RangeMan?" Wow. This could be my big break.

"Occasionally. Usually when Ranger needs a mini skirt and a set of boobs he calls me."

"Huh. Where is RangeMan, around here?"

She smirked at me. "At the Bat Cave, of course!"

Before I could answer her, she knocked again.

"Who is it?"

"Bond Enforcement." Wow, does that really work?

"Fuck Off!" I guess not.

Plum tried the door but it was locked. She banged her fist on the frame. "Come on, Westbrook. We'll just go to the cop shop, reschedule your court date, and you'll be bonded back out in no time. Probably for dinner."

"I SAID Fuck OFF!"

Plum looked at me. "What do you think?"

"How high was his bond?

"Ten Thousand."

"Ten Percent?"

"One Thousand."

"Five Hundred a piece?"

Plum nodded. I was beginning to feel her point about the shoes, and I didn't have the patience to convince this guy to sign away three years of his life as a repeat offender.

I kicked the door and it flew open. Damn, what luck! I attribute it to the shotty workmanship of the building, rather than actual skill. Of course, that's not how I'll retell it. Westbrook was sprawled on his couch watching a football game. He jumped up when he saw me walk into his apartment. "What the FUCK?"

"Okay," I said, clicking my heels on the floor. "Lets go."

"I'm not going anywhere. Did you just kick my door in? You're going to pay for that!"

"I'm sure I am. You're in violation of your bond, lets go."

"Look, bitch." Westbrook got up off the couch and pulled out a .9 mm Glock. "I said I'm not going anywhere."

I think if I wasn't trying to keep my cool, I might have peed myself. So much for the bad ass bounty hunter. Push a gun in my face and my legs turn from steel to jello. I felt my gun through the side of my bag, but I was terrified to reach for it. Westbrook clicked off the safety and pushed the gun to my cheek.

"How's a girl like you expect to take me in? Look at you! You're terrified!" Yeah, he's right. I am. What am I doing? Oh, yes! Waiting for Batman to swoop in and save the day! Find Julie's father, go home and schedule a therapist appointment.

Westbrook started laughing. "You want to know the best part?" He took a step back, and slid the clip out of his Glock. Was he taunting me? "Its not loaded!" he sputtered in utter hysteria. I looked in disbelief at the empty cartridge in his hand.

Oh, shit this kid can't be serious. He had me sweating over a gun that wasn't loaded. I decided to go with my original idea and pulled out my Smith and Wesson and shot Westbrook in the foot. I hope my bond is high enough to attract an interest with Julie's father.

"What are you doing?" Plum screamed. I'd completely forgot she was standing behind me.

"I shot him." Thank you Clara, Captain Obvious.

"We almost never shoot anyone!" Wow. Plum was touchy about this whole gun thing.

Ok. Mental Note. There are rules to this business.

Plum cuffed an irate Westbrook and sat him up on the couch while we debated on the cop shop or calling a medical unit. We opted for the cops, and while she explained the incident to the officers on scene I wrapped Westbrook's bloody foot in one of his t-shirts for cleaner transport. It took two officers to fight Westbrook down the stairs and into the back seat of Plum's death car.

We dropped him off at the station and Plum was talking to more officers and filling out paperwork on the incident. I sat on a bench in the lobby and waited.

"You should try not to shoot anyone." I looked over to see a handsome, 30-something cop sit beside me, holding two cups of coffee. He offered me one. "It creates a lot of paperwork," he said, taking a drink from his own.

"So I've heard." I wonder if he's going to arrest me. He didn't look like a cop. He wore a t-shirt with tight fitting blue jeans and sneakers. A pair of hand cuffs swung through a belt loop; his pager clipped to another. If he had a gun on him, I couldn't for the life of me think of where he'd put it.

"I'm Joe Morelli."

"Clara." I smiled.

"I thought Steph was stretching the facts when she told me about you. You really should get better shoes," he added - motioning towards my feet.

"I'll keep that in mind." We both sat in silence for a moment. I waited for him to reach for his cuffs. The anxiety was killing me.

"What are you doing in Trenton?" he asked.

Should I lie?

"After all, you are just a social worker from Miami. I ran your background."

Better not lie.

"I'm looking for someone," I told him. The less the better right? Omitting facts is not lying. I am selectively telling him the truth.

"Who might that be?" He's phishing. My gut was telling me not to tell him about Julie.

"An old friend," I lied. "My only lead is a bounty hunter named Ranger. And he's hard to track down, himself."

"Morelli!" The chief ended our little coffee break.

Morelli stood and tossed his cup in the can beside us. "I don't know who you're searching for, but stay away from Ranger," he warned as he walked away. "That guy bleeds trouble." Holy Shit.

"So I've heard," I mumbled.

I watched him walk across the station to talk to the chief. Man, he looked as good from the back as he did from the front. He stopped as he walked by Plum and whispered in her ear. They both looked in my direction. I took that moment to inconspicuously count the tiles on the floor. I saw Joe peck Plum on the cheek out of the corner of my eye. I made a second mental note that the hot cop was taken.

Plum strolled over with our body receipt in hand. "Not bad for a first day," she said. "Lets swing by the office so Connie can write us a check."

Wow. In little over an hour I made five hundred dollars. I was starting to enjoy this bounty hunter business.


	4. Chapter 4

**Discovering Batman -- Finding Bruce Wayne**

_DISCLAIMER- I do not own the Janet Evanovich Characters._

Chapter Four

The first thing I noticed when I strolled into our cheap motel room was that there was someone else there with Julie. After the day I had, to say I was panicked was an understatement. I immediately pulled out Julie's Smith and Wesson. Amazing how easy it felt after using it just once. Even my anxiety over the gun was fading.

"Clara, wait!" Julie screamed as the stranger dove under the bed. "Wait, he knows us!"

I paused, still holding the gun with both hands, lowering the weapon slightly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Bennie," he stammered. I saw a pale face and wire rimmed glasses poke over top of the bed, looking at me. He had his hands in the air and was still half kneeling for cover. He looked like a bottle of Elmer's glue, his hair was a sandy orange and he screamed computer geek. I wonder if this was his first time out of his grandmother's basement?

"I'm your P.I," he continued. "You hired me. You know, background checks?"

Hmm… I thought. I'm going to have to do background checks on my background checkers. I put the gun back in my bag.

"How'd you find me?" I asked.

"You used your credit card," he answered. Damn. He was good.

I sat on the bed and fell backwards. In response to the day I had, I focused on pushing the stress out of my body, forcing myself to relax. I was breathing in the yin and pushing out the yang when Julie flopped onto the bed beside me, bouncing me out of my zone. "Did you really shoot someone?" she asked.

"How do you know that?" I suspiciously turned towards Bennie. He must have deemed the situation as safe because he was now sitting at the little table clicking away on a laptop computer. That's when I noticed the duffel bags beside him that were open, revealing a menagerie of high tech gadget equipment. All Bennie needed now were some go-go gadget arms.

"Ever since I couldn't produce any information for you on Manoso I've been working double time. I've also been following your progress here." I snorted loudly. "And thought I'd help you."

"Basically you think I'm going nowhere, too?" I wasn't stupid.

"Basically," he agreed. "I've been keeping tabs on your activities, spending mostly. Today I got a hit on your social that you filed for a job in bond enforcement. That's also how I heard about an apprehension that involved you in a shooting."

"I was threatened. He put a gun in my face!"

He put his hands palms up. "Hey, I don't need the details. But the State of Florida will get wind of it eventually. That limits the amount of time you have in Trenton to track down Julie's father." That also limits the amount of time I'd have a job.

"Once they hear about it, they'll bring you both home and put Julie into the system," Bennie continued.

At that, Julie jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I heard the shower running and knew she was having a good cry.

"So how long are we talking?" I said.

"About a week for it to trickle down through the system. What leads do you have?"

"Just RangeMan." Boy was that pathetic, being that Bennie was my P.I. that originally suggested I start my search with Manoso's security company.

"What have you found out about RangeMan?" he asked.

"Just that everyone knows about RangeMan and no one knows about Manoso. Or if they do, they aren't talking."

"You talk to anyone?"

"Just those who know of RangeMan at the bonds office." I remembered my conversation this morning with Lula. "Oh, and there's a guy who skip traces from RangeMan."

"You talk to him?" Bennie asked, with added emphasis. I had the feeling Bennie didn't find my detective skills useful.

"He's kind of hard to get a hold of when he's playing Batman," I defended. "And don't ask. It's the nickname they give this man of mystery."

If Bennie heard me, he paid no mind. Bennie was clicking away. "The most logical thing to do is research into RangeMan. On the cover, it's a legitimate company providing various services to those who have the cash to buy them. But I dug deeper, asked around. RangeMan is like SWAT for the ghetto- they turn a blind eye until someone offers the right price. They flirt the line of what's legal, and any extra cash or gifts that they receive is flushed out through the company."

I knew RangeMan was shady. "You think Julie's father is caught up in this?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I think Julie's father is this. I think he is RangeMan."

My face must have been dumbstruck. Bennie took a long look at me and continued..

"Everyone refers to the same person as the boss," he said.

"Ranger," I supplied.

"Yes, Ranger. Do you know what a Ranger is?"

I think my face was frozen blank. I knew what a Ranger was but didn't know how it tied into RangeMan. My lack of understand left me tongue tied.

"The Army has an elite team of special operations troops-" Bennie went on. "The Rangers. They perform confidential government missions and are highly and sophisticatedly trained. They're missions are so top secret that they hardly even exist on paper except to the government."

Bennie started clicking again on his computer, motioning me in for a look. I looked back to the bathroom and saw that Julie still had the door shut and shower running.

"I had to really hone in on my skills for this one," he said. "I hacked into the government's database."

"You what!" Holy Cow. My P.I. was a federal criminal.

"I covered all my tracks, don't worry. At most, they'll only be able to see what I acquired, not who I am." Damn. He was real good.

"This is Carlos Manoso's service record." He pointed out a few missions; Mexico, Argentina, Panama, Brazil, Venezuela. "Naturally, they like to keep him in central and south America."

"Of Course," I answered, playing along. Scanning his record I didn't see any reason why they would want to keep him in central and south America, but at this point when Bennie has made me feel two inches high, I found it best to just agree with him.

"Its because he's Cuban." Silence. "He speaks Spanish?" Bennie added. Damn it. There goes another inch off my height.

"What does this have to do with RangeMan?" I asked.

"RangeMan is a play on words. I think Manoso uses 'Ranger' as a street name."

"Ok." I said, the light of understanding dawning on me. "I see the Ranger in RangeMan. So who's the "Man?"

"Manoso."

"Oh," I said. "Your theory being instead of finding Manoso find Ranger?"

"Exactly." He smiled a big goofy grin, like a kid in science class who had just won first place in the science fair. I hated science fair kids. They were always such know-it-alls.

I grinned a know-it-all smile right back at him. "Well, bad news because Connie at the bond's office says Batman's 'in the wind.'" If Bennie heard me, he made no sign. He began working on his computer again, typing so fast and reading screen after screen before he began the process over again. The monotony of it would make my eyes fall out.

"You hear about the big time mobster who snuffed his wife and brother?" he was pulling up pages of newspaper articles about Viola.

"Yes, so?"

"Viola did a lot of embezzling for members of the mob. He was making millions for these people. But when he went to jail all evidence of his embezzlements disappeared. Viola hid the money in an account somewhere, and when he got out on bond, he split."

"Wow. That sucks," I said.

"Especially for all those mobsters who Viola owes money to. The police are assuming Viola had a partner. They are following other leads, figuring if they can track the money they can find Viola." The thought of angry mobsters and their Tommy Guns made me want to hide underneath my pillows.

"I still don't get how this helps me find Julie's father," I said.

"RangeMan dabbles in skip tracing and mercenary work. Every bounty hunter in the state is after Viola. His bond was two million. Whoever brings him in gets ten percent." Bennie was smiling widely, trying to mentally push my gears of understanding along.

"You're thinking Manoso is after this guy, too?" That's what Julie and I had suspected, as well. But he was on fire. I didn't want to throw sand on his flame.

"Bingo." he said. "I'm sure RangeMan was brought in to do the job. You were going in the right direction, checking out Viola's Bonds Office. I nearly hit the fan when I found out. I got in the car and came strait here!"

The idea of Bennie sitting in his Grammy's basement watching every movement of my credit accounts made me very uncomfortable. I mean, what if it was my time of the month? I didn't want Bennie knowing every time I purchased a box of tampons, or worse; a bag of condoms. And then, to think he just clicked a mouse, typed a few keys and found my motel and just drove right on over? Wait a second… Did Bennie say he drove here?

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"Over in Hamilton Township." he answered. "Why does that matter?"

"You're my P.I. from Miami," I said.

"I work P.I. remotely. I don't need to physically be in Florida to run a search," he replied.

"Huh. What are the odds you would be in Trenton though."

Bennie hesitated a second, but quickly went back to the task at hand. "We need to infiltrate RangeMan."

"No we don't. We need to find Ranger."

"Yeah," he stammered. "That's what I meant. The cops have only one good lead in the Viola case, and that is a CEO named Bugsy Siegal. His accounting firm is a suspect in the embezzling scheme."

"Following the money?" I asked.

"It's what Ranger would do," he answered.

--

Siegal's Accounting Firm was a good twenty minute ride from the motel. It was a three story, modern building that looked just as expensive inside as it did outside. Bennie insisted on wiring me with a listening device that he could transmit off some satellite or something technical like that and listen in on our conversation. He smiled mischievously as he taped a small chip to the underside of my bra. If he's so damn smart, I thought, why can't he find someplace else to put it? He also included an earpiece so small it was virtually invisible. This way he could whisper sweet nothings in my ear. BLECH!

I took the stairs to the waiting area on the second floor. The front desk was manned by an exceptionally beautiful receptionist who didn't think twice about my poorly cliché excuse of needing an accountant and wishing to meet with Mr. Siegal. Yeah Right. Any dime I'd ever put through this firm would end up in the hands of mobsters.

"You're going to need a company if you plan to string him along." Bennie chirped in my ear. "A good one," he added.

"I know what I'm doing," I whispered. The receptionist glanced questioningly my way.

"Nerves," I lied. "MayI use your bathroom?"

"Sure," she answered as she showed me the door. Once inside I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and called Bennie.

"What are you calling me for? I can hear you on the mic."

"Do you know how ridiculous I look talking to myself?"

"Actually, I do. I hacked into the video feed. I'm watching you now."

"I'm in the bathroom!"

"I never said they weren't perverts."

I looked around the bathroom, searching the ceiling panels for a camera.

"Its in the light," Bennie continued. "Look, you need to think of a company if you're going to go with the cover story you gave the receptionist. You can't ask him to just do you taxes, you know."

"That was just to get me in the door. I'm gonna grill him about Viola."

"He'll deny Viola. You need to find the money, first."

"You think its here?" I asked.

"Could be."

Sheesh. I am really getting myself in over my head.

"I'll do it my way," I told Bennie.

"Suit yourself," he answered and hung up.

I straitened my dress, checked my hair and reapplied a coat of lip gloss and mascara. I walked out of the bathroom and made my way back to the luxurious waiting room just as the receptionist came to get me.

"Mr. Siegal is ready for you, Miss."

"Thank you," I answered, following her through a maze of offices and cubicles and upstairs to the third floor.

Bugsy Siegal's office was extremely spacious. He had a leather couch on one side, an executers desk took up another. An additional couch was placed on one wall with a large flat panel TV. He had large bay windows, bookshelves spanning the length of his room and expensive art hung on the wall. His office was probably as big as my apartment in Miami.

Bugsy stood to welcome me in. "Hello, Miss…"

"Clara," I answered, taking a seat on the leather couch before his desk.

"Clara," he repeated, waiting for a last name. When I didn't offer any he continued. "What can I do for you?"

Okay. I was gonna start off with something like, 'Where's the money?' and 'I know about you and Viola.' But after seeing this guy any balls I had fell right off. He screamed ties to the mob. He was a young Al Pachino with Deniro's attitude and aside from the Hollywood ones I was out of mobsters to compare him too. I could easily picture him with a cigar in his mouth and a gun under the desk.

I cursed inward at Bennie's perceptiveness to my plan.

I cleared my throat as I conjured up my lie. "I own a series of security companies, and I'm interested in hiring an accountant."

"I see," he said. He eyed me cautiously, and I suspected he was skeptical. "Well, Miss…" he was prompting for my name again, and I'm sure as hell not going to give him my real one.

"Tell him something!" Bennie hissed in my air.

"Manoso." I stammered. "Clara Manoso."

"Oh, Shit!" said the birdie in my ear.

"Mrs. Manoso, is it then?" He was stressing the missus. What was with his stare… he was either trying to see through my lies or was mentally taking my shirt off.

"He knows Ranger, you moron!" I scratched my ear politely, sending shrills of noise out into Bennie's receiver. I heard him yelp before he butted out of my brain.

"Yes, Mrs. Manoso." I plastered on my best Stepford smile. Behind my smile I was screaming. What the hell was I saying? What if Ranger followed Siegal as a lead, too! I'd be toast… no wait… I'd be found! I could hand Julie over to her father, go home, and after my therapist appointment, take a long luxurious bubble bath in my Jacuzzi.

"I had no idea he was married." Siegal pressed.

"Well, he and I will just have to chat about that over dinner, tonight." I smiled sweetly. "Shall we go over figures?"

"Of course!" As we chatted, it was obvious Bugsy thought I was handing over a goldmine of money to his firm. He was in the middle of telling me about his staff when his cell phone chirped to life. He looked at the display and apologized. "I'm sorry, Clara. I have to take this. Please excuse me?"

"Of course," I replied, continuing the pleasantries. After a moment of conversation , he stood to leave the room.

"Mrs. Manoso, you sit right here for a minute." he said as he left the room. "I'll be right back and we will discuss your husband's accounts." I had a feeling Bugsy Siegal has been trying to get his hand in RangeMan's cash flow for years.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes," I hissed. It was Bennie in my brain again.

"You got the chip?"

"He'll find the chip. He'll know its me."

"Just put it under his phone!"

I reached over Siegal's desk and picked up his phone. I tacked one of Bennie's remote listening devices on the underside. While placing the phone back down I noticed Dunfire's bag sitting behind his desk with a laptop computer sticking out of the top. My brain was reeling.

I pulled my Asus Mini out of my purse and popped the memory chip out of the side. I walked over to his bag and slipped out his laptop, powering it up. I popped the chip in his card slot and cursed when the screen prompted me for a password.

"Bennie," I whispered. "I need to bypass a startup password."

"I can access it through the network, hold on." Watching Bennie hack into the computer and power up its operating system made me extremely paranoid about my privacy. I mean, this is just some kid from his garage, right?

I quickly activating the chip. My mini laptop doesn't have a hard drive, instead it runs off of external memory, like a flash card. This makes sharing information easy since all I need to do it take the chip out of my laptop and pop it in another. It also makes copying information easy. All I do is activate a hard drive copy program, and once its complete I remove the chip. No trace that I was ever there. I can then put the chip back into my own laptop and sift through the other person's computer files. Like I said before, I've rarely used it. Maybe once or twice researching my thesis at the library. And that was years ago.

I pulled out the chip and powered off the laptop, sliding it back into Bugsy's bag and sat down just as he walked back into his office. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. I wonder if Bugsy could hear it, too?

"That was awesome. I can't wait to see what you got!" Bennie was going off in my brain. I stood up and gathered my bag, looking guilty as hell, I'm sure.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered. "I forgot the uh…"

"The time," Bennie prompted.

"The time!" I said.

Siegal looked at his watch. "You're right!" he exclaimed. "How could I forget! The gala is tonight."

"Yes, the gala!" I laughed.

"The gala?" asked Bennie.

"I've got to go get ready," I lied.

"So I'll see you there?" he looked hopeful. Ranger must make an awful lot of money off the books. This sleaze ball wanted his business bad.

"Sure," I said, scuttling out of the room.

What the hell was I going to wear to a damn gala?

--

"You told them you were my mom?" Julie asked incredulously.

Bennie was retelling the afternoon's encounter to Julie, juicing up the parts about him- the hero techie hacking into the big boss' computer stealing loads of potentially useful information. By doing this he played me down to a rookie amateur stuttering for the right words to keep him talking. Okay, so he wasn't far off, but hey, I did most of the leg work!

"Technically," I corrected her, "I implied that I was your father's wife. That would make me your step-mother."

Silence. No one knew what Julie was thinking half the time.

Bennie looked up from his computer screen. "The gala is at 8:30. You better go."

"I'm not going," I said looking at my watch. "And what do you mean I better go, its only four in the afternoon."

Bennie shrugged. "Figured you were gonna shop." Now that had some appeal, gala or no gala.

"You have to go!" Julie pleaded. "I've always wanted to go to a gala."

"Its nothing special. Just a bunch of rich people snobbing over themselves, champagne in hand with Norah Jones playing in the background," I replied. "And you're not going," I added.

"Oh, come on, Clara!" Julie was suddenly sounding very twelve years old. "I never get to do anything!" Nope, make that ten.

"Your safety is my first priority," I told her.

"Oh, that's a lie! When were you ever thinking about my safety? You were out shooting people!" Have I ever mentioned that Julie can be very challenging?

"What are you talking about?" I screamed. "You weren't even there!"

"Exactly!" she chanted. "I was here, alone, opening the door to a total stranger. If I was with you, I wouldn't have been put in that situation." What a little… no she didn't!

"You'd have been miserable."

"True. But if my safety is your first priority…"

"Fine!" I yelled. "You can go with me. But I'm not going so it doesn't matter!"

Julie was fuming, but she kept her composure. She turned to Bennie. "She has to go, doesn't she? After all, she did tell Siegal she was going."

"That's right," Bennie agreed. "You did mention something along those lines."

I glowered at him, hoping looks could kill.

"You might get a tip on Viola," Bennie added.

"AH! Screw Viola! I just want to find Manoso and hand off Julie. Then I can go back to my perfect little life in Miami and live happily ever after; just me and my plant!" I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Who's twelve now?

I stripped off my clothes and jumped into a hot shower. If there's one thing positive about this cheap motel, its that the shower had a massaging head to it. Every girl knows that next to buying new shoes, a shower massage is the next best thing to managing stressful situations.

Julie was right. I did overlook her safety today. Bennie could have been anyone. And the incident with Westbrook; I shot him in the foot- true it was in self defense but soon my Jersey antics would reach Miami. I'd be out of a job, with or without finding Manoso. A good tip on Viola would be helpful. Wouldn't it knock everyone's socks off if the Metro Bounty Hunter pulled in the toughest FTA and claimed the bond reward. The money I'd make off Viola would be enough to hold me over until I could settle into a new career.

I turned off the tap, dressed and poked my head out the door. Julie was still sulking on the bed, her notebook in hand writing again. Bennie was click-ity clackin' on his computer. What else was new?

I cleared my throat to grab their attention.

"What?" Julie asked, glaring my way.

"Is this a black tie affair?"

--

A/N -- Ranger makes his appearance in Chapter 5. Thanks for all your reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

**Discovering Batman -- Finding Bruce Wayne**

_DISCLAIMER- I do not own the Janet Evanovich Characters.  
I changed Walter Dunfire's name to Bugsy Siegal -- Sounds more Mob-like.  
_

Chapter Five

If you had asked me a month ago if I was the type to ever crash a party, I'd have told you to smoke crack. In Miami, I was upper class, and it would just be deplorable of us to excuse fine manners by showing up at someone else's ball unannounced. You were invited to a party. You came elegantly dressed, sipped fine wines, and chatted over the hum of violins. We danced and enjoyed the company of each others money. Here, in Jersey, a gala had a come one come all attitude, as long as you could pull off the look and weasel your way onto the guest list. So Bennie gave us instructions on tonight's dress code and promised us he would take care of all the other details.

We hit the mall and Julie and I split directions to complete our shopping faster. I had given her my cash from today's apprehension for her to do her shopping. She was a little miffed at only receiving 500.

I went to a store that sold formal wear and choose a full length satin gown in midnight black that was short in the front and long in the back. It hugged my body just right, accenting the right curves. The saleswoman also sold me a pair of sexy, stiletto strap heels to complete the look. I have to say that I can't think of a time that I looked better. Shopping does cure all woes.

While I waited to rendezvous with Julie, I hit the Victoria's Secret and bought a Brazilian lace panty and bra set. I mean, you have to have sexy underwear with a sexy dress, right?

Julie jumped out of the Limited Too, carrying overstuffed bags. I gasped and nearly fell over. She had done up her hair in a hundred, small braids. Where before her hair was a deep dark brown, it was now black with pink braid highlights. To top it off, she had a small piercing in her left nostril. I vowed never to let Julie out of my sight, again.

"What did you do?" I admit it. I attacked her. I grabbed the bags from her hands in defiance. She looked shocked.

"You wanted me to go looking like I did before?" she accused.

"Yes!" I had a feeling this was a trick question.

"And what are you going to do if my Dad recognizes me?"

I felt the anger leave me and terror take hold. "I don't know," I admitted. The idea of the mysterious Batman finding out that I was tailing after a guy accused of murder one with his daughter in tow did not appeal to me. I took a good look at Julie. The hair made her look older, much older. Old enough that maybe Ranger Manoso won't realize she was his daughter. But just in case, I need to find a way to bring my gun.

"Who are you supposed to be?" I asked.

"Nobody." she shrugged.

"You shouldn't have gotten the piercing."

"Relax, its fake." She sauntered towards the exit, and with each step her hair bounced wildly.

"And the hair?" We tossed our bags into the back seat of my rental.

"Its a wig," she admitted as I turned over the engine and pulled out of the lot. "Do you want me to bring the gun?" she added.

"NO!" I told her. There was no way I was going to admit that I was already considering it. I pulled into traffic and headed back to town.

There was a small gun shop in Trenton that I'd heard Plum talk about earlier. She said it was the perfect place to buy what I needed to bust down my FTA's. I highly doubted it had anything that could protect me against Julie's father, but I detoured through town to check it out anyway.

I parked my Taurus on the street and peered into the gun shop.

"Changed your mind about the gun?" Julie can be such a smart ass sometimes.

"I just want to look around." Geez.

I walked inside and found to my surprise that the shop was manned by a woman, rather than the stereotypical red-necked shotgun collector named Bubba. She had all sorts of weapons and apprehension paraphernalia. From handcuffs, to pepper spray, to belts, holsters, tasers and an extensive collection of rifles, shotguns, and handguns complete with an entire wall full of ammo.

"How can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"I'm a fugitive apprehension agent," I explained. "I need a place to put my gun." I could feel Julie's 200 watt grin behind me.

"I see," she said. "Maybe a gun belt?"

"It wouldn't match my stilettos."

"Ah! I understand. Your attire?"

"Formal. Satin." I answered.

She thought for a moment and went to one of the shelves. She picked up an ankle holster and held it out to my leg for comparison. "How short?" she asked.

"Short."

"You have thin legs. If I give you an ankle holster for a man it might fit on your upper thigh." She selected one from the shelf. "Try this on in the back."

Ten minutes later, I ushered Julie out of the shop carrying my new holster.

Bennie was dressed to the nines in a sleek, black tuxedo when we pulled up to our room. He opened the door and hurried us inside to get ready. He stopped and did a quick glance over on Julie.

"You look black," he said.

Julie shrugged. "That's the idea."

"Wicked."

Julie and I quickly readied ourselves and came out just as a limousine pulled around front. We stumbled awkwardly inside, me still stringing a pair of diamond earrings through my ears. Bennie gave instructions to the driver and we set off. I knew when we were close because panicking butterflies were doing circles in my stomach. I grabbed a bottle of champagne from the mini bar and downed a glass. I wasn't feeing it, so I poured another.

"We need to talk about our objective, tonight." Leave it to Bennie to interrupt a good drinking binge.

"My objective," I said. "Is to not get caught!"

Bennie pulled two small gizmos from his tuxedo pocket. "This is a remote tracking device. It will transmit off of any satellite at all times. I need to get one on Siegal."

"What good will that do?" asked Julie. I took another sip of champagne. The idea of playing secret agent was making me nervous.

"If he's holding Viola's money in one of his accounts, than Viola is going to have to make contact with him," Bennie explained.

"But its to track location, right? How do we know its Viola he's going to see?" I concluded that Julie was very witty. Not only could she find fault in every person but she could also find fault in every person's plan!

"I modified the chips, combined them with one of my listeners. It will transmit location and sound." Bennie was wearing one of his science fair award smiles.

"But there's two," I slurred. "Who's the other one for?"

"I need to bug Ranger, too."

"HAH!" I cackled. Both Julie and Bennie jumped. I raised my glass in a toast. "Well," I stammered. "Good luck then." I polished off my second glass, and noticed both Bennie and Julie were staring at me. "What?"

"I'll bug Siegal. But Ranger is more difficult. He'll need a distraction."

My head was spinning, multiplying the effects of the champagne. "I'm not following you."

Bennie sighed. I found that when someone didn't understand Bennie's logic he always seemed a tad frustrated. Usually that person was me.

Julie took over. "My dad's good, Clara. Real good. He would notice if someone walked up and placed a bug in his pocket. It just wouldn't work. It'd be suicide, really." I loved how nonchalant she was about that last part. The thought of me bugging Ranger and that it could potentially end my life was not motivating.

"You want me to distract him so you can put the bug in his pocket?" I asked. "Won't he take off his jacket later anyway?"

"Yes," Bennie said reluctantly. "That's why I need you to distract him with your hands. I need the bug somewhere on his skin. Preferably someplace that isn't too noticeable."

I was speechless. Bennie just signed me up to be the hoe in this outfit.

"Put your hands over your ears," I barked to Julie.

"What are you doing?" Bennie said, watching Julie cover her ears.

"You want me to strip search her father? I'm just going to pull him into a closet and take off his pants, slap your gizmo on his ass and ask him to call later? Is that your plan?" I screamed.

"I can hear you," Julie moaned.

"Can it!" I snapped. I turned to Bennie and pointed my best 'shame on you' finger. "I didn't agree to this to be your little whore!" I was on a roll. "My tricks don't come free! I want to find Viola just as bad as you do, but if that's your game, I'm not playing."

Julie took her hands off her ears and Bennie was dumbstruck. "You're a bitch when you drink, you know that?" he said. He shook his head. "I was kind of thinking that you'd dance with him. Stroll him along the dance floor and get him to stare at your knockers long enough to press the 'gizmo' behind his ear. Maybe the base of his hairline."

"Oh." Bennie had a habit of making me feel very, very short. "Why are we bugging Ranger, anyway?"

"He's got better resources than we do on Viola." Bennie answered. "If he's out looking for him, we want to be one step ahead of him, right?"

I could see Bennie's point. If we piggy back Ranger we'd have the advantage. And then it dawned on me. "What's your cut?"

Bennie grinned. "Half. I'm doing all the technical work and you do all the leg work. Seems fair to me."

"What about me?" Julie piped up. The limousine pulled to a stop.

"Your going home," I said, getting out of the limo. "As soon as I bug Daddy, Bennie here is gonna toss your suitcases into the bat mobile."

"What?" she sputtered. "But I can help you!"

"How?" I questioned. I noticed Bennie wasn't backing me up.

Julie was thinking. I could see her struggling with what information she had that would be valuable to us.

"I didn't think so," I said. "Come on, Bennie. Lets get this over with." I started for the door, but Bennie grabbed my arm, holding me back.

"Uh, Clara," Bennie said. He began wiring me with his two way mini microphone. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "We kind of need Julie."

I stared at him blankly. "Explain."

"Well," he murmured, "I couldn't exactly get us onto the guest list."

"What do you mean?" I breathed.

"The guest list was full."

"SO?" I prodded.

"We're the talent." He backed away from me and stood near Julie. It was then that I looked around and noticed that we were standing outside the country club's stage entrance.

"We're the talent?" This day couldn't get any worse. First I shot a man in the foot, lied about my name, and now I have to sing in front of everyone?

"Oh, Lordy, I hope I'm not late. I was so afraid I was late." My night just got worse.

I looked over to see Lula. She had squeezed herself into a bright red cocktail dress that was way too short for her. She had dyed her hair blonde, although it looked more yellow than blonde. Her lips were cherry red to match her shoes. "This here skinny boy sure was lucky to get me on such short notice. I do a lot of shows around here, although this is my first time at the country club. Am I lead or backup?"

"Backup," Julie and I answered, both at the same time.

"Hey metro girl. You singing this gig, too?" Lula asked.

Bennie took my arm and began escorting me inside. "All you have to do, Clara, is go out there and sing a couple songs. All the songs I chose you've sung before in karaoke contests." He knew about my Karaoke Contests? "Julie's been in talent competitions for years. She'll take care of the rest." He lowered his voice out of Lula's earshot. "Besides, you'll get a good scan of the floor and everyone's position." He handed me the chip. "The glue is heat activated. It needs to be put someplace warm on the body. No arms or legs. The neck has a carotid artery, so anywhere there is fine, including behind the ears. Torso is best." He tacked the chip to the underside of my shoe. "Find a way to get it," he told me.

"But what if he finds out?" I whispered.

Bennie reached down and patted my thigh. "You've got your gun. You'll be fine."

Bennie left me to my thoughts as he set up his laptop and gizmos backstage. Lula was practicing her dancing and Julie hummed to herself. Everyone seemed relaxed and in control except for me.

A waiter walked backstage offering us drinks and bottled water. I eyed Julie maternally and she sighed, grabbing a bottle of water. I grabbed two glasses of champagne, one for me and my guest of course, I told him. I downed one and started on the other when Bennie informed me I had three minutes to curtain.

"What have you selected for me to sing first?" I asked.

Bennie looked up from his computer. "Norah Jones."

"Oh, how cabaret!" I laughed, obviously drunk. I turned around too fast and bumped right into Lula. I fell backwards onto the floor, tripping over the back of my dress. I heard the fabric rip as my spiked stiletto tore through the material.

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed. Nothing like a ripped dress to sober a girl up.

Julie ran to my side with a pair of sheers. She began cutting away the material to make the back of the dress as short as the front.

"It don't look bad, girl," Lula encouraged. "You look sexy."

"They're introducing you," Bennie hissed in my ear. I jumped and looked back to see Bennie had gone. He was in my brain again.

I gathered my wits, straitened my dress and sauntered onstage to the mic. I was greeted with a gentle applause as I began my vocal. As a kid my mother had me take singing lessons. I eventually gave them up but the tone of my voice had been forged. I was excellent at singing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I felt exhilarated. I hit every high note and didn't miss one lyric. As the first song ended and my next one began, the guests started to again mill amongst themselves.

"I'm in the middle of the floor in front of you. Nod when you see me," Bennie chirped.

I quickly found him and nodded. He began walking slowly to his left not breaking his eyes from me. Bennie waited until I hit the climax before taking a step backward and bumped into Siegal. Genius, I thought. I saw his hand reach out to help steady Bugsy, and I caught a glimpse of the pat on the back from Bennie as he apologized. He turned around and gave me another nod.

"Your turn to get fresh," he said into the mic. "Scan the room for Ranger. After this song, Julie's coming on."

The tempo picked up with my next performance. This gave me the opportunity to utilize more of the stage. I found Seigal at the bar to my left, clearly distracted by a very sexed up Plum. So this is what distraction is for RangeMan? That meant Ranger had to be here somewhere.

The room was full of men in tuxedos. It was difficult to see all their faces, and as I hit the bridge in my song I knew time was running short. I spotted the hot cop, leering over Plum's shoulder in the north corner of the bar. He appeared to be drinking his woes over a glass of beer.

The tables in front were filled with the elite of society, smoking cigars and chatting over their drinks. The first few tables were clearly occupied by husbands and wives. The next few were chatting up about business. There was another table of couples. I heard a bark of laughter and looked to my right. The last table was occupied by three men. They all looked like body builders. Laughing was a big, tank sized black man. He looked uncomfortable in his tuxedo. He probably wore bone crushing armor on his days off. To his right was a shorter, whiter version of the tank. And opposite both of them, facing the stage was their muscular, olive-skinned ring leader. He was clearly head honcho by the way the other men talked to him. He listened mostly to the conversation, sipping from his champagne flute, occasionally looking around the room. He lifted his gaze and looked at me. My heart flipped as I stared into Julie's eyes.

"What are you doing?" Bennie hissed. I was so taken aback that I hadn't realized I'd stopped singing. The pianist continued playing and I picked up again on cue. I'm blaming it on the champagne. If I was of sound mind without the effects of alcohol I could have responded in a more professional manner.

Truth was, Julie's father was gorgeous. His hair was long, but short enough that he couldn't tie it back. He had the same curl to his hair like Julie, the same eyes, the same smile in the corners of his mouth. His body was muscular, even with wearing his tuxedo. I could see myself in those strong, Cuban arms as he held me tight, whispering Spanish nothings in my ear….

The lights dimmed, and I was lost in my fantasy as the dreamy Carlos Manoso gazed at me.

"Clara! Julie's walking out. Get off stage!" Bennie was becoming incessantly annoying.

I came out of my haze in time to see Julie catwalk on stage as a club beat announced her presence. She had a cordless mic in her hand. She'd changed from her dress into shiny black leather pants, a leather jacket with a red tube top underneath. She was wearing three inch hooker heels and was definitely pissed. I was pissed too. I was a dead woman if Ranger found out I'd sexed up his daughter.

"Get off," she hissed as she grabbed the mic out of my hand. She turned right on her cue and began singing. I glanced down to see Ranger glaring up at Julie. Had he recognized her or was he pissed that my performance was cut short? I would have liked to have believed the latter, but reality sunk in when I noticed Ranger was following Julie along the bottom of the stage

"Bennie, Batman's trying to get in close to Julie."

"Shit." he said. "Distract him while I fix it. Go dance center stage or something."

"What? I don't even know what she's singing."

"Pussy Cat Dolls." Wow. No wonder he's suspicious. What adult walks out on stage and belts out a pop single? I decided that if Ranger needed a distraction, it was best that I provided one. I am one hundred percent of consensual age.

I grabbed my mic back from Julie just as she hit the chorus. I nailed it without missing a beat. I sauntered in front of Julie, and she gratefully walked back to dance by Lula. Batman leaned against the stage staring up at me. He looked… amused. It was probably due to the alcohol taking hold of me. I was doing things with my hips I didn't even know I could do. I caught him peering up my skirt and thanked God I'd bought sexy underwear.

The lights went out and the stage lit up with a strobe light. I saw gasps and delight on the guest's faces as they started to fill up the dance floor. If this is what Bennie meant by distraction than we sure pulled it off. Even granny was getting into it.

I've always found that when things are going alright for me, shit happens. I mean, we pulled this off. True I still needed to bug Ranger, and the thought of being alone with him scared the jeepers out of me, but we had Siegal and we put on quite the show. But then Bugsy jiggy's his way over to Ranger and I watch the two have a brief exchange. Now Ranger's looking more annoyed than amused. Shit. He looks up, seething. Shit. Shit. This can't get any worse. Hey, is Siegal pointing at me?

I took this opportunity to make a beeline for the exit, leaving Julie to take over her performance. I pulled the chip out of my shoe and gripped it in my fingers. I looked behind me and saw Ranger was gone.

"Bennie," I gasped as I jumped through the exit door. "Does he know?"

Before I could hear Bennie's answer my earpiece was ripped out of my ear. I felt a hand grip me by the back of my neck and push me into a small utility room. The door slammed shut, signaling my impending doom. I swung around and my back hit a concrete wall. I stared into the face of Julie's father as he pinned me. He was pissed. "Oh, I know," he said.

It was at this moment I realized I was going to die.

The way I see it, I had two choices. I could let him kill me, which is the logical choice, my brain said. Be smart here. This guy is Rambo on steroids. I could try to threaten him, but he knew as well as I that they'd be just empty words. If I fought him, he'd just beat the snot out of me and then I'd die a painful death. If I cooperate, he might take mercy on me and kill me quickly. If I use Julie as leverage, he might let me live my life out blind, deaf, and dumb in a wheel chair.

And then there's my second choice. Since I'm gonna die anyway, I might as well enjoy this last moment on Earth. I mean, I had a job to do, right? My geeky P.I. was counting on me planting this bug. If that meant I had to throw myself on him in one last heat of passion than so be it. This was the booze talking.

Ranger pushed all his weight against me. He leaned in close to my face and breathed into my ear. I felt heat flash through my woman parts. "I heard about Vinnie's new little skip tracer. Said some hot metro girl had a dream of handcuffing the bad guys. Viola's high profile. Even top dogs like me have a hard time tracking him down. How a girl like you could ever think of making an apprehension like that is just crazy."

I know this is my moment of death here, but I was beginning to feel a little turned on.

Ranger laughed and stroked his thumb across my breast. My nipples instantly hardened. "Then I was thinking," he continued. "Maybe you aren't really looking for Viola. Maybe you're looking for someone else." He leaned in close to my lips, and I could feel the heat emanating from his body. "Maybe you're looking for me," he crooned.

I couldn't wait any longer. I was ready to die. I leaned in and closed the gap between our lips. His body shifted in surprise, and then he pressed into me, deepening his kiss. I think I melted into him, because his aggression softened into passion. He relaxed his weight, and his hands found their way to the edge of my skirt. He traced his fingers up my thigh, stopping momentarily on the gun before continuing. He was playing with the top of my panties, probably debating on whether or not to take them off.

It was amazing how clear I could think while kissing him. Since he had his hands busy, I decided it was time I began using mine. I started by unbuttoning his shirt, tracing my hands across his muscular body. He lowered me down on the floor, both of us kneeling, neither one of us breaking our embrace. Ranger pulled me in closer to him. I was exploring the small of his back when I gripped the handle of his gun. He broke away from me and looked into my eyes, hesitant, as I slowly pulled the Glock out and set it on the floor beside us. I replaced the Glock with my hand, pressing Bennie's transmitter on his hot, sexy body.

He continued to gaze at me, trying to read my thoughts. I fought hard to erase them, hoping he hadn't a clue what I had just done. After our little moment he stood and began readjusting his clothing. I followed suit. Ranger was still breathing heavily when he reached for his gun. He held it for a second before tucking it back into his pants. He leaned against the exit and looked at me. It was a will of the minds. I wasn't about to talk first. He still scared the piss out of me.

"You are quite the distraction," he said eventually. He shook his head and sighed. "You shot a guy in the foot, then you sauntered into Siegal's office. No thought that you were dealing with a high stakes criminal. You bugged him there, bugged him again here and to top it off you managed to turn tonight's affair into a night club."

"How do you know about Siegal?" I asked.

"My men are watching Siegal." Good to know.

"So this is about him, then?"

"No. This is about me."

I took a leaf out of Julie's book and chose silence as the best response. I really wasn't sure all that he knew about me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him all that I knew about him. His phone buzzed and after a six word exchange he walked over and grabbed me by my arm.

"I have to go, darling. But I'll call on you tomorrow to finish our little chat." He was back to being the bad guy.

"I look forward to it," I sassed. He laughed menacingly and grinned. His smile lit up the room. And then he left.

I live to see another day.

I stayed there for a moment and let the emotions run through me. I held myself as I shook, willing the fear to take hold of my adrenaline. I should be scared, I told myself. I should be pissing myself right now. Do you realize how close you came to death, Clara? Instead I felt suddenly cold and alone. I was empty inside. I began to pinch myself in places, making sure that I was still real, still me. I fixed my hair, straitened my dress and checked my gun. As I strapped it back into its holster I felt a draft go up my legs.

"That bastard!" I screamed into the empty room.

Not only did Carlos Manoso steal my heart, but he also stole my panties.

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